“Not on your life! Not a dollar to that thug! When the game is over and the crowd begins to move I’ll take chances. If he bothers me, I’ll give him a sleeping slug on the jaw.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
ON AN ERROR.
Frost and Necker were disturbed when the Merries secured their run in the second inning.
“What do you think of that, Hobe?” asked Frost. “It begins to look bad to me.”
“Oh, don’t worry!” returned Manton, although he was a trifle disturbed himself. “This is just the beginning of the game. Merriwell can’t keep up the pace he has set. Those fellows will get onto his style of pitching after a while, and then you’ll see something happen to him. Those chaps behind him would go to pieces if the Outcasts began hitting.”
“I hope they’ll begin,” said Necker, a trifle dolefully; “but I’m afraid they won’t.”
“Merriwell’s men must be good batters,” said Frost. “They’ve made three handsome hits off O’Neill. Nobody seemed to think they could do much with him.”
“O’Neill hasn’t settled down,” declared Manton. “After he does he’ll keep them from hitting.”